Fragments
by cclee123
Summary: Moments of Gine, Goku's mother; Picking and choosing what I thought worked from the tv special and the new manga; it's a story, kids. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_He was the reflected image of his father._

_That's how she knew he would be great._

But he'll know his heart, too, she mused; she could feel it in the way he suckled so gently, passively in her infamously bone-thin arms. He would be great, as the attendants had exclaimed countless times since his birth; but not in what was expected and prized of their race; not out of the wreckage of destruction, fear, or even pride; far too many were conquered by blinding pride.

Her eldest, she winced, mournfully. Her child of war.

No, this one's power will come with the perpetuation of life. He could even bring balance to their wretched system, someday.

The babys' bangs feathered her breast, burying his head into her heart, and she felt again the low swelling not unlike how she'd come to hold his father so dear.

It was not enough that, belonging to a warrior species, she could so easily feel.

It was not enough that her life had once been a stringed necklace of several, failed missions, huddled inside cascading debris, eyes shut to every full moon;

He would save her. Wordlessly, yes.

Never a grunt, nor scoff, nor culminated reprimand that she was unfit for her kind, embarassing even.

That's how she knew he was great; how she knew she would love him.

That was why, almost immediately after the birth of their first son, he'd watched dispairingly as the boy was carted away to his first mission; having felt a strange sort of anticipation in creating a _family. _Together; regardless of the talk they provoked from the population.

That was additionally why he would approach Kakarot wihout joy; why she should have to shelter him, parade him in front of his gruff father before he struck the notion of being blessed.

She shifted in her seat, breathing deep the scent of Saiyan children delivered and gone; she wrapped her senses around the form in her arms, the hum of the machinery, and the rehabilitation tank in the neighboring room, carrying her mate.

Near death he'd returned from Kanassa; the current diagnosis, a concussion. Trouble, curiously, with his brain waves.

_Something finally managed to pentrate that thick skull, lover. _She preened.

Yes. all would be well. Even on a corrupted planet like Vegeta.

That was when her sleeping child began to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

He could not be silenced; her iron-grasp could not dissuade his flailing; he howled, and cried, and shook with balled fists with the terrible impression that he witnessed a horror she couldn't comprehend.

She felt helpless. Her coos fell at the shrill vibrations of his cries, gasps, cries, and she could ony guessat this sudden, heart-wrenching turn. Brow knit, and tears formed because he was literally fighting to escape his little mind, her hold, this room; some sision of devastation was torturing her sweet newborn. Gine shook him, willing the furious blush from his cheeks.

"Shh..." She searched fretfully for a passing attendant. "Help.." she moaned, "My baby.."

She must've sounded absurd, a Saiyan female begging for a means to sooth her child. But that was the fault of this world. He needed to be comforted.

_"Help!" _she shrieked, "Something's _wrong, _something's.."

"Planthor! Get him out of there, something _serious _is going on!"

Kakarot began to faulter; his lids lifted a crack, and she took the opportunity to rock him, feeling the slow acknowledgemnt of his gaze fill her. From the next room, the rejuvenation tank was draining into the floor; her little one's fingers clawd faintly at her collar-bone, and again, they were one.

And now, she could migrate her senses.

"You gave us a scare," they were saying. "Bardock, what _happened_?"

"I don't know..It was like I was having a nightmare, but I wasn't asleep. I don't _think _I was asleep."

Gine frowned and rose, tentatively lowering Kakarot down onto the infirmary bed. There would be other moments to introduce him.

For now, Bardock needed _her._

He was already dressing, applying his wrist-bands gravely. She leaned into the doorway, watching with another subtle wave of concern and longing.

"I think it would be _wise _to take it easy for awhile, Bardock," one went on from behind.

"Yeah?" he replied absently. "I wouldn't know; I'm not wise."

"You're not, hm?"

"No." He inclined his head, stretching the tendons into place. It was then that he noticed her; boyish wonder at first, a wolfish grin the next.

"Oh, I think you're wise. How else could you carry out the assignments that you do and still be alive?"

It was clear, though, that he no longer listened. She returned his grin, but stood her ground.

"I know how to fight," he replied, never breaking her gaze,"Doesn't take a whole lot of brains to be a great fighter."

He crossed to her in what seemed like a single stride, dewey eyed, with the question of why they'd been separated so long; _My brute. My silly, scarred brute. _He reached a calloused hand to touch her, settling on her face.

They held each in their minds' eyes for a moment. They could always speak volumes in this way.

"Rough night?"

"I got banged up. Strong like concrete." He scratched his head with his other hand.

"Something finally found it's way into that thick skull, then?"

A smile, small. "'Bout time my head caught up with my heart, Gine," he murmured.

She giggled. _No word of the delivery. He would want to see him, though. He had to. He-_

"You and your team were ordered to go to Planet Meat by Frieza himself," the diminutive alien broke.

"What!?" The warrior's fire ignited and rose in his eyes. The spell was broken.

There was no hesitancy; no apology or otherwise. It just wasn't done with Bardock. "I have to go."

"I know," she lied. "Later, then. Tomorrow."

"Yes." And he was an after-image, hurtling down the hall at a soldier's speed.

But her son's distinct cried shattered the air. Their son's. The warrior skid to a halt.

She stalked behind him, the slow ascent of anticipation crawling its way into her throat. _He sees the resemblance. He knows.._

He stared intently, standing in the outer reaches of space with the frantic child, curiously, she thought away from all present things.

Gine shifted uncertainly. The slightest disruption could break whatever took place, here,

"He sure has some powerful lungs."

"Yeah."

"Radditz didn't cry nearly so much."

She stiffened. "No, I guess not."

"Average power level, too."

_The bastard. _"Bardock.."

What followed next could never have been predicted.

"Take him and leave."

..."What?"

"Go quietly; The farthest sector you can."

"What is this?" _Was this rejection? Of his hours' old son, and her as well?_

"I smell death, Gine. I saw.." He leaned his weight into the railing, catching it in both hands. One passed over his brow, his face, and he shook it irritatedly. "I saw Vegeta. Gone. Something's wrong... I need you to go. Tell no one."

"You could be wrong.. Bardock, that was quite the blow..You haven't rested, come lay with me, you.."

I _saw _it. What's more, he sees it too." They both looked to the baby, who hadn't ceased the whole while.

"This isn't like you to be so concerned."

"Borrowed from you, I think."

Silence. Dreadful silence. "Then.."

Her turned to her, visibly anxious.

"...How will you find us?"

"I've never not found you."

Again, he was gone, leaving every unanswered question imaginable.


	3. Chapter 3

For the thriving and dying moments that followed, she could not, and would not, follow his instructions. It simply was too much.

Rather, she left Kakarot to sleep; he'd successfully settled into his soft repose after several minutes of coaxing and breathed words. It was difficult at first, having been joined with him for all of an entire half a day; but it was imperative to extricate herself towards work. She would be notified if it happened that he was assigned to a mission.

Now, separating assorted alien innards from salvageable meat, she bent forward into pressing worries.

_I've never not found you._

This'd always held true.

Their courtship could attest.

Courtship, for their kind, was unprecedented. All pairs opted for test-tube reproduction, or implanted contraception. There were no mishaps; the ability to reproduce was a choice given in the earliest days of adolescence. No close contact, or slight whiffs of intimacy.

When she'd first known him, he was already an established figure among the ranks of the lower class; a skilled fighter with an uncharacteristically calm deliberation. Arrogant, like all Saiyans, but reserved. Clever, even. Distinctly different from his crew.

The notion of spilling blood was impossible for her; no matter how gruesome the foe, or severe the damage she recieved, it was never enough to deliver a blow in the heat of battle. It did not take long for the rest of them to notice, even in their Oozaru states.

And then came the taunting.

'Runt.'

'Weakling.'

'Sickly coward.'

Jeering of a courtesy death; sneering departures.

He'd watched her, and watched them.

And then the day when, cornered against a sold embankment and cowering under the sharp incisors of death, he'd swept her assailant away with an airful of awesome power. She would never forget the gust of wind behind her locked vision; his placid face the next, scarred and close and smelling of violence.

"Don't expect this to happened again," he grunted.

But it did. Ritualistically and unfailing; as natural an event as the rise of the moon. Always him; always patient.

She would watch him, memorize his profile; create her own stories of the scar on his cheek; the movements of his mind. But far too meek to address him, she took to the caves of their given planet when any were close. The last few days of her time as mercenary were spent waiting out the genocide the group unleashed. She remembered curling underneath the dripping stalagtites; listening for their different roars and hoots, plucking his from the cacophany and tucking it inside her ear like a lullaby.

He wasn't vulgar, as was Shugesh, nor eerily stoic, like Borgos; distant, unlike Tora, who'd on one occasion made a very brief, tactless advance upon her recruitment. Fasha, the only other female of his elite, was the least forgiving. That separate sort of antagonism felt eternal.

She swept at her brow with her wrist; her svelte, insignificant wrist. On a planet such as Vegeta, where the entire population either enlisted to serve the Emperor's Planet Trade Organization, or else pursued their own sources of bloodshed, it was truly remarkable that she could have the occupation she did.

Remarkable still, was that _he _had suggested it.

"You don't belong here," he'd said from behind her, as they prepared to depart for home. She'd been twirling the flower's stem giddily, the one she'd discovered in her pod.

"No," she answered quietly, not quite releasing the wistfulness from her features. The petals shone a pale lavendar under the violet dawn. She wondered faintly where and when he'd found it. "But what other choice do I have?"

"Not my problem."

She spun slowly, her hair swinging behind her and her face bright. Hers was the most undeterred joy, simple and sweet. And she knew that he knew. And he knew that she knew that it drew him to her.

His eyes narrowed. "..Unless.. you can cook."

"I can," she chirped.

"Good. Get a job at home; _don't _come back."

As he turned, taking blooming fragments of her in his stead, he stumbled. A knee locked, he yelped-_yelped_-like an infant chimp, and collapsed in a heap, throwing dust in his outline.

She gasped, and all but threw herself into him, unsure as to where to lift, or _how. _He was just conscious enough to heave himself into her grasp, allowing her to cradle his head into her threading hands. It was a long while, it seemed, that she looked at him. His throaty pants, his curved, thick brow; it dawned on her that nothing had ever seemed as intrinsically natural. This. This right here; him in her hold.

She twisted her fingers into his tangled mane and palmed the full base of his skull when he said, "If our race could dream.."

Two Saiyans joined for a kiss.

Later he would say they were as impossible as the Legendary Super Saiyan.

And now he was gone, rushed to the aid of his squad. If his premonitions were true, she would soon have to send Kakarot away. She would set the coordinates for a home-planet of peaceful creatures, she decided. But Gine would not join her son. Because something indeed _was_ wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

"We've got one to go here! Coordinate FX-50! His name is, uh, Kakarot!"

"Kakarot, huh? And which planet are they sending you to, little guy?"

"Let's see...Eee-arth!"

_"Eee-arth? _Heh, look Kakarot, we don't name 'em, we just send you there, little buddy."

"This pod is a-go! Let's move 'em out!"

"Wait!"

Gine came forward, kneeling into the pod.

There was the chance that this could be goodbye.

She pushed tangles of unruly black hair from his little face, and he popped a thumb sleepily into his mouth. "You'll be great," she whispered. "You'll do things these meatheads have never _dreamed _of. Your father says he saw it.. and so do I."

"Newborn?"

Gine turned to the launch coordinator."Hm? Oh. Yes," she blushed.

"You could always accompany him, you know. First mission and all that."

_I could. We could hide together; wait for Bardock and begin a peaceful life. . Forget about cold tyrants and obedient soldiers, and all-consuming, murderous pride. _

But that wasn't the design currently underway. She knew him; he would fight, whatever was coming. In all the different ways they had shared their lives, she could not abandon this moment.

"No." She laid a hand on the pod's side. "He has to do this himself."

The alien touched her shoulder. "In all my years I've never seen this kind of concern from a Saiyan."

She smiled. "Borrowed from his father."

"Wait." It looked to the ajar pod and thought for a moment. "Ah, this is _Bardock's _son!"

Another blush. "Yes," Gine chuckled.

"Man, this kid's going to be dangerous! I mean, _Bardock's _offspring; the galaxy'd better start _packing it's bags _when _this one's _full-grown; look-out, Prince Vegeta, you're-"

"No. You're wrong," she clipped, jaw stiff. She looked down at the infant. "He's not going to harm anyone."

It stepped back, deflated. "Hey, whatever you say, Mom."

"Mm." She leaned into the pod's interior, brushing her nose lightly with his from side to side. "Take care... " She kissed his plump cheek tenderly, barely causing a stir. "I love you, son."

_"Hey! I've got other units to launch, let's move it!"_

"You'd better go. He'll be fine. He _is _his father's son."

There was no mistaking that.

She watched from a balcony; she wanted to see the pod become a shining beacon before disappearing altogether. The prick of light dissolved as it gained light-speed into the blood-orange stratosphere. And for once, in the last 24 hours, she released a sigh, and slumped onto the railing.

She sniffled. _What now._

_"Please clear the landing-deck; pod landing in four seconds.."_

Gine looked up; a battered pod was hurtling downward.

_"Three.."_

_Bardock.._

_"Two.."_

_Alive.._

_"One." _She sprang.

He was shaking out of the silver sphere, bent on both knees and crumbling; he heaved, and wretched, and forced his entire expanse onto the craft's metallic surface.

He wore a scarf completely coated in blood at his brow.

The deck's guards reached him first. "Bardock? Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he wheezed. "Please.. I need to go.." He shoved them both aside with a single forearm in a shaky, determined march. _"Move."_

She'd gotten to the bottom of the stairwell; he was death itself, torn by the unknown. His armor was half-shattered, latched only to one side of his chest and caked in fresh blood. But it was his face..Haggard. Aged. Lined with curves of unnamed blood settling in his brow, on his cheeks..

_Oh.._

_"Gine."_

"Bardock!" Her sprint to him matched his gait; clumsy and desperate. "Bardock, what _happened? What've they done to you? What-"_

"He's coming for us. Right now. _Now Gine._ Please. Help me.. I can't reach the stairs on my own.."

"You'd better go straight to recovery," one of the guards interjected. "Oh, and hey, you missed your son! He just left."

This stopped him. Them. "What?" he answered tiredly. "Just...now?"

"Eeeyup. Just before you arrived, sir; damn shame. Yeah, you only missed him by a matter of seconds. I wish I would've known it was you coming in, I could've delayed the departure for you both."

Gine looked up at him, conscious of the enormous amount of weight he unwittingly put on her just then. His arm was slung at her shoulder, his eyes, fixed on the alien but recieving nothing. His pants, it seemed, were digging deeper into the inner chambers of his chest. From below, his knees could crumble at any moment.

The two guards looked to each other, then to him. "Please," they urged, "You're injured. Allow us to escort you to the recovery chambers..."

He gasped, deep, his bloodied eyes enormous and beholding an unseen phantom. Gine adjusted her grasp of his back and chest, indenting into the sheet of sweat. In turn he jerked his entire frame to again move in stride, turning them.

"Where are we going?" she whispered. "Bardock, you're scaring me.. This is.."

"We've got to worn the others.. Got to stop him somehow.."

"W..what?"

From over her shoulder, the pod's interior shone a solid coat of dried scarlet.


	5. Chapter 5

They stumbled and crashed along the winding hall, a twisted shape of desperate, forward progress; she looked to him several times, in spite of all anguish that came with disconnect; her Bardock had been replaced with this single-minded husk, somehow.

"That monster.." he wheezed.

She dared not respond; at present, she could not endure being ignored. She knew her role; she would carry him. The streaming scent of collected sweat, blood, fury, was clawing at her own stalwart suspension, though, and she began to miss the him that was.

Gine tried to dilute their contact, tenderly; to reach him with a slight stroke of his back, a brush of her head; but his breath only became more ragged, his vision, slanted. He could scarcely force them forward, fuelled by nothing, and she wondered if he even knew their destination.

But in the haze of madness she held fast to his cause.

She could believe that Lord Frieza was coming; she could believe that severely sinister events were underway.

And with every bending pathway, she could feel Bardock's vitality fading.

It delivered like an enemy blow that they could die; Kakarot was safe, he would live, and she and his father would die.

Far too much. Her face crumbled. "Bardock.." she whimpered.

"We have to warn the others," he stated clearly. "Got to stop him somehow.."

"Frieza?" she prodded. "Please..I know what he's always been capable of, but.."

"He's going to destroy the whole planet."

"But what have we _done? _Why _now? _After everything..the missions, the work.."

"He's...he's scared of us. Scared of _me. _And he _should be, _dammit. He won't give us the chance.. The legend.."

"Legend?"

"The Legendary Saiyan.."

"Shh..I'm sorry; you don't have to talk now. You're.." She stared at him, past the gore, the aging, into her dear ones' dark eyes. "_Stop.."_

_"No! _I can't let this _go! _They _killed Tora, _they _killed Bordos.._ They'll kill you.. And they'll think nothing of it."

_The first time he'd taken her, he knew she would not recieve violence. As a fighter, and nothing else, he'd never concerned himself with the complications f intimacy, and therefore, this was new to him._

_He'd laid her down, hung above her, looking down at the clinging trust that shone small in the blue-lit cave. Dripping from overhead, adjusting of his bare shoulders, curving of his hips; she'd taken all of it, all of him, and would take any manner he gave because she, separate from all Saiyans, reached for him from the core. She arched into him, slowly, not only with the clenching jaws of desire, but an altogether alien concept to their kind; when he came the first time, he'd hit a wall._

_He layed his forehead square onto hers, buried in search of sounds, and there it was, small and waiting, there. He'll never forget her slender hands kneading the twisted diagram of his shoulders, and how it all had felt._

And now they were set to die, unless he could rise the victor. Tora had said the monster was scared of him; and he wouldn't expect an attack from a lower-class soldier. With the others in line, they could rise. They could overthrow him. A new order, or no order at all.

"I won't let it happen," he uttered. He nudged her on; the hive of voices was close. They were strong. All together, they could do this.

They swayed to a halt in the cantina's door-frame, and he released her ; she was still whimering uncertainly, and he brushed a hand along her shoulder muscle to silence her.

He made to lay a hand on a nearby table, and fell forward instantly; Gine kneeled to retrieve him, but he batted her hand. He needed to command the higher ground on his own.

That was why he'd raised his voice above their current laughter. "Listen everybody," he rasped. "It's Frieza, He's coming for us."

"Us?" one questioned jokingly, tightening his grip on his mate.

"You mean _you, _right?" another joined.

Bardock cleared his throat, but couldn't quite straighten. "No. Us. You, me, everyone here..It's true. He's _scared _of us. He wants us all dead. My _whole crew _is dead thanks to that _fuck!"_

The rapt silence did not last long. "Bardock gets his ass kicked and it's the end of the world, right?"

_"When're you all gonna stop pretending to be elites?"_

"_No kidding, _Bardock. Welcome to the real world, buddy!"

_"It hurts, don't it?"_

He felt Gine's presence acutely at his back; he could feel her sinking despair. The hoots and hollers rose and swelled, along with the understanding that she and him were trying to save animals. Animals too proud to comprehend ther own destruction.

_"Fools!_ You're _all dead!"_ he bellowed. And this, _this _achieved silence. "He's on his way.."

"C'mon, Bardock," one of them urged.

"Fine. Believe what you want to believe. But I'm going to try and stop him."

He seized her wrist and drew on his last few reservoirs of adrenaline to bring them to the highest peak of the building; no one behind him. No one but her.

And she wouldn't be able to defend herself.

When they stood at the balcony, he curved his entire body inward to ward off the awful spinning; the dreams, the premonitions, the baby... His family..

He arched himself, unsupported. "Gine?"

She came to his outstretched arm; he was glaring at heaven, baring his teeth to unmistakable ship looming above.

"He's here," Bardock breathed. "I can feel it."

She followed his line of sight. "And we're the only ones who know..aren't we?"

He nearly fell backwards; she caught him for the last time.

"That mission to Kanassa I was hit by a survivor." He coughed. "He gave me..the chance to see."

"See this?"

"This..The future, our son."

"Kakarot."

"He'll be a warrior." Another cough. "Only..he'll be different."

"I know," she replied. "Like you."

They held the image of the shifting sky in their minds; the ship had drawn closer. In that fleeting instant everything they'd known flew apart. It didn't matter that their race had been a mindless force of creature-brutality; only that they would soon be slaughtered.

All at once he wrapped himself around her small angles, her trembling figure burying into him. She wiped furiously at her eyes, and he stroked her head under his chin. Gine crawled further inside him and he stood straighter; with each passing moment he grew to realize that she was giving him energy in beaded, magnetic droplets running along him burning tissue; his vision began to clear;

He looked to her with a start; she was watching him sadly.

Her face was stained, but so was his.

_Now you know how we felt, _the Kanassan screeched.

"I'll stop him," he said, thumbing her tears. "Even if I have to do it with my own two hands."

"I'll be here," she choked. He nodded.

"This is for you."

She watched him ascend in the way she'd watched her son; she watched him tear through the barricade of swarming soldiers;

The shower of falling bodies streaming behind;

She watched him streak across the furious red sheet into deepest black like a comet with a cause.

Then quiet.

Hitched breath.

A ball of light, white;

An answering beam, growing, growing-

looming, falling..

Everything yellow, everything hot, burning, rising;

And gold; Her hair rising up in gold flames..

The color of retribution, she knew, would be gold.


	6. Afterthought

Reference photos include;

/tkgsize/status/452460702054105090/photo/1

/tkgsize/status/453926264831614976/photo/1

I myself can't read Japanese; I only took the images. ^^

And if anyone knows the source for this one, let me know; it's sooo good.

post/82531620492/dragonballzepicness-another-picture-of-gine


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